Brian Dwyer: Attacks in Mumbai spread aftershocks throughout India

Thursday

Nov 27, 2008 at 12:01 AMNov 27, 2008 at 9:20 PM

In the 22 hours since Prakash Thadani stepped onto his Mumbai balcony and watched an explosion rip through the Taj Mahal hotel, his world has been limited to his flat, his family members and coworkers huddled around the television set.

Brian Dwyer

In the 22 hours since Prakash Thadani stepped onto his Mumbai balcony and watched an explosion rip through the Taj Mahal hotel, his world has been limited to his flat, his family members and coworkers huddled around the television set.

Vibrations from explosions rattled their windows every 15 minutes. He hadn't slept. More than 24 hours after the attacks on Mumbai began, this is the most common account: residents no longer claim to be in fear of immediate danger, but will not leave their homes.

Gunmen attacked several locations in Mumbai Wednesday night, including the iconic Taj Mahal hotel and a Jewish center. In all, 119 people were killed and 288 wounded in the attacks.

Against the Mumbai authorities' urgings, Thadani, executive director of the Jazz Utsav festival scheduled for this coming weekend, made a trip to his office for supplies the morning after the attacks began, as hostages were still captive in the hotel, one block away. The normally chaotic streets were only occupied by police posts on every corner — he didn't see another civilian.

I'd spoken with Thadani before, professionally, about Jazz Utsav, but this time his tone was helplessness. I worried his focus and fears couldn't be deterred from future retaliations. He was unable to care that his work of the last year — the festival -- had been cancelled.

In Thadani's 55 years in Mumbai, the only comparable sense of fear came in the city's 1993 bombings, though it pales. "This feels like a war in a city that has been safe for the last 15 years," he told me. "We can no longer be proud of this city's safety."

Mumbai's strength has been its progressive, universal appeal, making it an easy adjustment for American and British expatriates. Being such a central pillar, though, has connected everyone to the attacks; the citizens of New Delhi can tell narratives of two or three acquaintances.

An expat friend of Thadani's staying in the Taj decided the experience of having an AK-47 pointed at her is enough to send her back to England.

Gaurav Athalye, a friend of mine and a banker working in his office when the bombs began, was forced to spend the night in his office building. The military would let no one on the main road.

“The police would point their guns at us from the street,” he said. “They no longer could tell who the enemy was.”

As Athalye walked towards his home the following morning -- further from the attack sites -- he was angered by signs of normalcy. He was sickened by the uniformed children being sent to school -- one of few not closed -- or the storefronts that remained open. The streets here, unlike those in Thadani's neighborhood, were congested with cars.

"People have become so used to this that they feel numb," said Athalye. "It's just normal somehow."

Brian Dwyer was an intern in 2006 with the Kingston Reporter, a GateHouse newspaper. Last spring, he graduated from New York University and is currently working as a journalist in India.